After two days of heavy rain, the once sweltering small city cooled down significantly.

Though the damp chill was a bit uncomfortable, sleeping at night felt much better—Yue Feather’s home had no air conditioning.

Drizzle persisted for days, shrouding the city in gloomy clouds with barely a glimpse of sunlight.

Only on final exam day did the dark clouds finally clear. The brilliant sun generously bathed the world in light.

Silver Bell’s tough time ended that same day.

Truthfully, after the first two days of sharp cramps, the pain lessened to a slight bloating. The worst was the constant damp feeling and the mental fog this monthly ordeal brought.

Even focusing felt impossible back then.

But once it passed, she felt incredibly light, as if she could fly at any moment.

“Be careful on your way, and ace the exams!” Silver Bell stood at the door, waving lightly to Yue Feather as he headed out. Her smile seemed brighter than in recent days.

“Hmm… I’ll try…” Yue Feather had studied hard lately, but he wasn’t confident about his scores.

At least his strong subjects wouldn’t fail him. For others—like English—he’d just have to leave it to fate.

Freshmen and sophomores took exams together. Seniors had already graduated after finishing college entrance exams earlier.

Those seniors were freshmen’s envy—graduating early meant a super-relaxing summer. University was rumored to be easy and free.

Even teachers joked, “Once you’re in college, play as you like.”

Sophomores felt nervous though. Next semester, they’d become seniors, diving into intense review sessions. Just picturing upperclassmen drowning in problem sets sent chills down their spines.

Exam rooms were assigned by student ID. Yue Feather slowly found his, arriving early as usual. The room stood empty, but he couldn’t enter yet—doors stayed locked to prevent desk graffiti cheating. He’d wait for the proctor.

Bored, he leaned against the door, gazing at the azure sky. His thoughts wandered, mostly about Silver Bell.

He’d grown used to having a pretty girl at home. Life felt more colorful now.

The house he’d once dreaded returning to after school now had him rushing back the moment classes ended.

Perhaps because Silver Bell still felt dreamlike, he cherished it fiercely.

He didn’t know when this “dream” might end.

“Yue Feather… we’re in the same room,” Zhan Qi greeted happily.

“Ah, yeah. You sit right in front of me.”

“Mm~” Zhan Qi shyly twirled her hair, standing alone in the corridor corner, fidgeting with her fingers like she wanted to speak but couldn’t.

“What’s up?” Yue Feather asked, puzzled. The stiff air needed lightening.

He only felt awkward in small groups. Crowds let him retreat into his own world comfortably.

“Um… thank you.”

“Thank me?” He looked utterly baffled. That opener made no sense.

“The… gift… I really like it…”

“Gift?” His eyes widened. Zhan Qi must be mistaken.

“Mm… uh…” She thought he was teasing her, twisting silently.

“I don’t recall giving you any gift,” he said seriously. “You… mixed it up?”

“Huh? The teddy bear stuffed in my backpack yesterday—wasn’t it yours?”

“Of course not. I didn’t send it.”

“Oh… I see…” Zhan Qi’s shoulders slumped. She stood in the corner, silent and downcast.

Yue Feather puzzled over the sender—then remembered Ji Fan.

“Probably Ji Fan’s doing…” he muttered. “Why sneak it? Just give it openly.”

To Yue Feather, a handsome guy like Ji Fan shouldn’t fear rejection. Zhan Qi wasn’t strikingly pretty—she’d likely melt at his confession.

Maybe he cared too much to speak up?

Yue Feather understood. He was the same.

Just then, Ji Fan arrived—but for the next room. Since both were on the same corridor, friends naturally gathered before exams.

“Yo, Old Feather, morning!” Ji Fan called cheerfully.

Ji Fan loved changing nicknames. Sometimes “Ah Ye,” sometimes “Old Ye,” even “Sparrow.”

That last one was bizarre—born from his wild logic: “Yu” meant “feather,” feathers came from birds, sparrows were city commoners. Hence, “Sparrow.”

Without explanation, no one grasped his thought loops.

“Ji Fan, was the gift from you?”

“Gift? What gift?” Ji Fan scratched his head, confused—until spotting Zhan Qi in the corner. He laughed loudly, embarrassed.

“The gift Zhan Qi got. Yours, right?”

“Ha… haha… no… not me?” Ji Fan chuckled awkwardly. Yue Feather saw the lie instantly. Denying it spared her awkwardness.

“Zhan Qi, did you like the gift?” Yue Feather shot Ji Fan a look, playing wingman.

“I-I liked it…” She blushed.

“See? She liked it. Admit it was you.”

“Cough… ha… ha…” Ji Fan kept laughing until Yue Feather, standing on tiptoe, slapped his head hard.

At 180 cm, Ji Fan towered over 160-something Yue Feather.

“Zhan Qi, Ji Fan sent it. He actually—” Yue Feather started, but Ji Fan clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Ha… haha… ignore him… but yeah, it was me. Yesterday was your birthday, right? Uh… happy birthday…”

“Huh? How’d you know… it was my birthday?”

“Well, your QQ profile says so…”

“Oh… thanks…” Zhan Qi replied politely—just classmate gratitude, nothing more.

Ji Fan felt disappointed yet relieved he’d silenced Yue Feather. A direct confession would’ve meant instant rejection.

“Come on, restroom break.” Ji Fan dragged Yue Feather away, sighing only inside the stalls. “Dude, don’t blab like that.”

“I was helping.”

“Bullshit. It takes finesse. Who confesses that fast? Feelings need time!”

“I think Zhan Qi wouldn’t reject you.”

“Damn it, you think I seduce girls with looks? That’s trashy. I’m not some love-game player!”

“Really? Didn’t you date in elementary and middle school?”

“Only two total! Both ended at graduation.”

“Graduation always breaks couples up. Maybe quit now,” Yue Feather teased.

“This is different. We’ll apply to the same university after high school. Stay together, see?”

“Sure… you can?” Yue Feather eyed him skeptically. “Can your grades even match Zhan Qi’s?”

“With love, nothing’s impossible!”

“Alright, alright, so dramatic…” Yue Feather splashed water on his face at the sink. “Sober up for exams. Bomb them, and your summer’s back in hellish cram schools.”

“Damn it, don’t remind me!” Ji Fan shuddered, grumbling. Ninth grade’s summer flashed back—packed schedules, zero free time, pure despair.

Still, those cram schools saved him. Without them, his grades wouldn’t have scraped high school admission.

Back then, high school wasn’t compulsory—barely easier than college exams. A diploma held real weight, rivaling later college degrees.

“Good luck,” Yue Feather said, smirking. “I support you in spirit.”

“Easy for you, living alone… damn it… but heh, I’ve hidden cheat sheets. Passing’s guaranteed.”

"Did you forget the vice principal is proctoring your exam? Are you sure you can use that cheat sheet?"

"Darn it! It’s the end for me!" Ji Fan wailed in agony.